


continuance

by iwillbeyourgoal



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillbeyourgoal/pseuds/iwillbeyourgoal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There are things I can't tell you. There are some things others know better than you.</i><br/>First meetings don’t matter. What matters is their continuance, their evolution into patterns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	continuance

First meetings don’t matter. What matters is their continuance, their evolution into patterns. What matters is the falling out of course on a routine trip round the world only to find a beautiful frozen palace the likes of which he’d never even attempted before. What matters is mead poured into ice chalices and impromptu flurries materializing over the two of them as they become less and less inhibited. What matters is that when they kiss, they feel warm, for a bit.

 _There are things I can’t tell you_.

It becomes routine, of course it does. He makes excuses to the other Guardians, the children of Arendelle need him, they need some fun—look at the globe, you’ll see. And if any of them suspect, well, they don’t say anything out loud.

She loves watching him play with the town children. Her sister had told her she was too serious, too contemplative even when she got away. He was nice. He was _fun_. He understood. Cold was nothing to be scared of. But she is still afraid, still a little.

 _There are some things others know better than you_.

He tells her love wasn’t technically forbidden, but it wasn’t encouraged. Their lives are too long, their hearts too easily worn down by years and faces. It takes too much out of you to love. She says she knows. He rests his hand on her cheek and beautiful patterns swirl up to her eyes and fall off as they crinkle in a smile.

She still wakes up sometimes, gasping _Anna, Anna_. He can’t do anything to stop these visions, but he can hold her and he can tell her that he won’t leave this time, that if he does, he’ll be back sooner. Even if he won’t be.

  _There are things I wish I could show you._

“Did you always have white hair?” he asks one day, idly tracing frost into the ground as they sit outside.

She nods. “I’ve been like this since I was born.”

He tries to understand what it’s like to be sure of your past and your identity. He’s not sure she’s sure herself. “I haven’t.”

Tilting her head, she turns to look at him. “No?”

He shakes his head no, and she doesn’t press farther, just moves a bit closer so their legs touch.

 _There are things I want to share with you_.

Memories were tricky, he thinks. Remembering the old ones was never truly easy for him, but forming new ones was something he could get used to.

He never actually asks her to marry him. He’s just come back (it’s so funny how “back” has turned into somewhere he never intended to stay in the first place) from a two-month away period, and they agree without really speaking one night.

He knows she will die. She knows he will be gone. These are insurmountable obstacles, but ones they don’t need to think about right now.

The wedding is beautiful and small. The Guardians, Anna, and Kristoff are there, and they figure that’s all they need. A woven ice trellis stands behind them as North reads their bonds, their promises. It’s a simple formality—they made their promises long ago. 


End file.
